Soul of the Sword (Shadow of the Fox #2) - Julie Kagawa Page 0,79
us, Taiyo-san,” he said. “If it won’t stain your honor to share a room with a ronin, that is.”
“There is no dishonor in that request, Okame-san,” Daisuke replied, rising smoothly to his feet. “I would welcome your company. If you don’t mind sharing a room with…what was the phrase? A swaggering court peacock.”
“Eh, I’m sure I’ll manage somehow.”
“Yumeko-san.” Daisuke nodded to me. “Master Jiro, Reika-san. Oyasuminasai. I will see you all in a few hours.”
“Good night,” I echoed, and watched the two men leave the room, Okame giving me a grin as he passed. After following Reika into her room, I watched as she fished a second ofuda out of her sleeve and pressed it to the door, silencing our conversation to any outside ears, as well.
“You’re not angry, are you, Reika-san?” I ventured as the miko finally sat down on the other futon in the corner. She shot me a dark glare, then sighed.
“No,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I’m…terrified.”
Shocked, I sat on the futon facing her, crossing my legs. “Of Hakaimono?”
“Hakaimono, the Forest of a Thousand Eyes, the Dragon scroll, all of this!” She gestured wildly at nothing. “It might come as a surprise, Yumeko-chan, but this is my first time outside Taiyo lands. Before you and the others came to my shrine, my days were peaceful, spent talking to the kami, dancing at festivals, banishing the occasional ghost or yokai. Now I find myself sitting in Hakumei castle surrounded by those who wish to kill us, preparing to track down the most dangerous oni that has ever lived, in the hopes that a kitsune who knows nothing about the world can somehow manage to defeat him. Provided that Hakaimono doesn’t slaughter us all the moment he sees us.
“So, yes,” she finished, glaring at me again. “I’m terrified. I’m afraid I know how this is going to end, and it isn’t good for any of us. And if we fail, what will happen to the Dragon scroll? The best I can hope for is that the piece you carry will be lost, and the Harbinger will not be summoned in this era.”
“Why do you care so much about the Dragon scroll, Reika-san?” I asked, genuinely curious. “It was never your duty to protect it, but you seem to hate the fact that it exists at all.”
Reika gave a bitter smile. “I’ve studied the history of the scroll,” she answered. “I know what the Wish can bring about. But, even more than that, I know the evil that lurks in the souls of men. You don’t have to be a shrine maiden to guess what mortals will do when granted the power of the gods. The Dragon is not called the Harbinger of Change for nothing. I would rather not live in a world created by the whim of a single man.”
Her stare turned challenging. “That is my interest in the Dragon scroll, Yumeko-chan,” she said. “My reason to never see the Harbinger called upon. What is yours? Do you even have one? Or are you so blinded by love that you’ve forgotten your first duty is to protect the scroll and prevent the coming of the Dragon?”
“I…” I stared at her, feeling like I’d been hit in the stomach. “I don’t…What are you saying, Reika-san?”
She sighed. “You don’t even see it, do you? It’s plain as day to the rest of us.”
“I don’t love Tatsumi,” I said, still reeling from the implication. “I can’t. I just…”
I faltered again, as words failed me. Love was an alien concept, something I’d never even thought about. I’d read about men and women falling in love; the library at the Silent Winds temple had a book tucked away among the scrolls that told the story of a samurai who loved a geisha. But he had a wife and a family, and so he visited her at night, where they fantasized of him someday paying off her debt and running away together. There was a lot of internal agonizing on the samurai’s part, for though he loved the geisha, his duty was to his family and his daimyo, and he could not abandon them. The tale ended tragically, with the samurai being called to war and dying in battle, and the geisha throwing herself into the river in grief. The samurai’s actions were highly praised, however, both by his comrades and the book itself, for choosing duty over love, though they never mentioned the woman who had died.